


we make plans for big times

by orphan_account



Category: Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-06
Updated: 2013-02-06
Packaged: 2017-11-28 09:11:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/672717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roy Harper had a plan, but everything fell apart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	we make plans for big times

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so we're going with Roy not knowing Cheshire's secret identity because no one on the team tells him diddly shit and his listening skills are subpar anyways. Also, this is for felldowntherabbit-hole on tumblr (how do you gift things to people on another site I just don't know) and anyways enjoy!

Roy Harper has a plan for his life. Well, not really a plan, so much as a rough outline. Step one is already done: become a superhero. He's good at it, good at running and shooting arrows and catching the bad guys. The world for him is black and white. Good and evil. He sees it sometimes, the reason why the villains are the way they are (losses, terrible childhoods, lost loves) but doesn't care. Bad is bad and good is good.

The second step of his plan is a bit harder. He wants to marry a girl. There are two types of women Roy considers options for marrying. Option one is a normal girl. A Lois Lane type, because Superman’s happy, the real sort of happy. He wants the sort who can hold her own but isn't zipping around in overly dangerous situations (aside from the occasion kidnapping - which Roy sort of figures he can prevent, with luck), the type of girl who can bake a pie when meeting his family. She'd be the type of girl he'd have to reveal his identity to, the type he'd grow to trust with both halves separately first. Option two was the type of girl who was a hero. A Black Canary type, who can literally hold her own and zips around saving the world right beside him. She'd know all the troubles of being a hero and never care what his alter ego was, would exchange battle stories like presents at a party.

The rest of the steps are fairly simple, have a couple of kids, live a long time, get a protégée to follow in his footsteps once he tires of the hero gig. It's not a lot to ask, he thinks sometimes. It's a simple enough plan, one that’s worked out for several people he knows, and he doesn't expect his life to be perfect. The girl will disappoint him occasionally and vice versa, his protégée (never sidekick) would get angry with him, etc and so on. But really, he just wants a few simple things and he'll be happy.

His plan goes out the window completely on December 30, when he realized that he hadn't actually done step one. He'd royally fucked up step one. Or more accurately, someone else stole step one from him and shattered it. But because Roy is who he is, he takes this as his fault. Weeks later, when Roy's trying to regain something (he isn't sure what) he realizes he's well on his way to screwing up step two as well.

Cheshire is surprisingly warm as she leans against him, her breath hitching every so often. Roy moves his arm, careful in a way he is not entirely sure she deserves, to the back of her head. The assassin grins up at him, a smile that earned her a name in the business.

“You look mad, Red. C’mon you saved the girl, chin up,” Cheshire says. It’s true, technically. There was a girl, although Roy’s not sure Cheshire was ever a girl in the childish and innocent sense, and she did need saving, although it was mostly because of him.

“Why did you come back for me?” He asks, before gritting his teeth as he carries her up a staircase. There’s a wound on his knee and the adrenaline is beginning to fade. Cheshire shrugs, a movement that he can feel with her surprisingly small body in his arms. Roy had expected her to be tall, larger than life, but in reality her chin barely reached his shoulder. Not that there would be any purpose for that between the pair of them, Roy reasons.

“Ever heard that belief that if you name something, you get attached to it? My dad always used to tell me and my sister that, then punt whatever stray we’d brought home out on the fire escape,” Cheshire pauses in the midst of her statement, wincing. Roy stops, having reached the top of the staircase and sets her down. Her breath shakes as she places hands on the large wound on her side. Biting her lips, she chuckles. “Even back then I was surprisingly sentimental. Always trying to keep some whiney orange tabby.”

Roy smiles at that, in spite of it all. Pulling his quiver down, he rummages for any sort of first-aid.

“I wish I hadn’t done it, y’know?” Jade says as Roy finds some wrapping. Careful, he begins to wrap her ribs.

“Hadn’t helped them manipulate and use me?” Roy asks this almost hopefully. He finishes bandaging her before she answers, the idea striking him that perhaps she was waiting until he wasn’t so near her injury to answer.

“Don’t flatter yourself, it was a job. I meant, I wish I hadn’t come back for your freckly ass,” Jade tries to stand, but fails. For some stupidly noble reason, Roy catches her. She licks her lips. “It _was_ just a job.”

“Fine,” her need to repeat the fact burns at him, makes him feel like a dunce for helping her.

“You take everything the wrong damn way, Red,” Cheshire places a hand on his shoulder. “I mean, I didn’t have a choice in it. Job’s over and look what I’m choosing.”

“Why do you call me Red when you know my name?” He reels away because his mind jumps back to the plan. Step one maybe he can salvage, maybe, but this is tearing at step two. If Cheshire’s offended by his reaction, she masks it. He notices it, catalog the way she stares stoically.

“Common courtesy amongst folks like myself. Even if they’re flashing your name across the news reel, you call them what they want to be called until they tell you otherwise,” Cheshire says simply. She attempts to stand again, pulling herself up on the railing. Roy rises as well, noticing again how tiny she is. She groans and he instinctively grabs her to support her. “You’re awful handsy for a hero.”

“You’re awfully noble for an assassin,” he quips back and Cheshire smiles at that. It’s a peace offering, or the closest Roy thinks they will ever get. With only mild help from Roy, Cheshire manages to get out of the building.

“I’ll hail a taxi,” she says. “Your duty’s finished.”

She says this finitely, no room for argument on his part. In fact, by the time he can even formulate a solid argument, Cheshire’s hailed a cab, shouting at the driver something about how she can’t be the worst he’s seen – even with her blood stained side. There will be hell to pay for this later, letting a known criminal leave a crime scene. But Roy watches her, leaning in the passenger window arguing with the cabbie and something tugs at him. Step two has some leeway, really. There was a third option, the Catwoman type. As Cheshire throws him an exasperated look over her shoulder before sliding into the cab, he considers the third option. The cabbie nearly starts, but Roy shouts for him to wait.

“I’m Roy,” he takes the chance, before he can fully think it out. Cheshire smiles in response, a breathy laugh as she slides a hand through the window to shake.

“I’m Jade,” she replies. He shakes her hand and before he can move away, she darts forward, claiming his lips. They part only when the cabbie begins to gripe and Jade’s eyes seem to sparkle as she pulls away. There’s a siren in the foreground as her cab pulls away and Roy’s reminded that several men are incapacitated in the warehouse behind them. But that’s fine. Because Roy has a plan.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Thoughts on another part to this?


End file.
